Beta love: Huge thanks and virtual cookies to Kefalion (Frida) and agentmoppet (Ellen) for betaing, and LittleMissXanda for helping me with the story.
Word count: 1505 (according to Google Docs)

QLFC Round 6/span - Deadly Sins and Heavenly Virtues
Chaser 3: Write about a light character committing the sin of WRATH or a dark character demonstrating the virtue of FORGIVENESS.
Bonus prompts:
3. (word) favour
11. (word) risk
13. (word) therapy

Cold.

Freezing cold seeped under Theo's skin, piercing through his bones. It filled him with an icy mixture of fear and worry; it made him feel as if a Dementor was looking over his head. He reached for the doorknob which felt equally cold to his insides, turning it until he heard the click of the door, granting him entrance into the office.

Inside, a rather desolate landscape greeted him. There were no colourful paintings on the walls, only the rigid, somewhat faded furnishing was sparse: a pair of cabinets made out of steel, and a huge oak table. Behind it sat a slightly balding man, looking to be in his forties, writing what looked to be an official Ministry report. Theo took a deep breath, stepped forward and took the seat on the other side of the table.

"Father," he said, his voice strong yet laced with an almost unnoticeable uncertainty.

"Yes, Theodore?"

"I have a favour to ask of you," Theo exclaimed and continued right after "I am yet to think of what I could give you in return, but I hope you can understand. I am afraid."

"Afraid of what?"

"I feel as if I'm not ready to join the ranks of the Dark Lord. I know you wished for me to join them next August, but if you trust my judgement, I would like to ask you to attest to this decision." It was a half-truth on Theo's part. He was afraid, yes, but even more so, his heart wasn't fully in it. Having been taught to always be objective when making a decision, Theo couldn't see the benefit of being a Death Eater.

Besides, he was not too keen on risking his life for something he did not believe in.

"That is an… Interesting decision," Mr Nott said after what seemed like hours of silence, his piercing blue eyes scrutinising the boy closely. "Either way, this secret of yours will be in safe hands with me."

Theo bowed his head. What he received as answer was already more than he had thought he would.

~oOo~

Stagnation.

In the coming months, every new day felt like a breath of fresh air for Theo Nott. He let himself focus on his schoolwork and friends, managing to quieten the nagging voice in the back of his head that urged him not to ignore the permanent grey clouds that seemed to loom over other people, as per a side-effect of the War.

For possibly the first time in his short life, Theo decided to be selfish and put his own happiness ahead of everything else.

It felt surprisingly good.

What a shame nothing good lasts forever.

~oOo~

Betrayal.

Pain coursed through every bit of Theo's body, making him scream inwardly—because he couldn't let the torture show on his face. What kept him from screaming out loud was the feeling of utter desperation that hit him as soon as he caught a glimpse of his father, sitting at the far end of the table, no emotions marring his slightly wrinkled face.

It wasn't the pain that made Theo desperate for solace, though. More like, it was the emotional scar of having been betrayed by his own father.

An overwhelming urge to curse the older Nott into next Sunday filled Theo for a moment, after the pain in his forearm had subsided somewhat. However, as quickly as it had come, the urge was gone. Theodore Nott was raised to be, and proudly was, a rational thinker; it would have been foolish of him to let blind hate and revenge lead him.

What made matters even worse was that it wasn't really betrayal. His father never told the Dark Lord about Theo's fears of becoming a Death Eater—quite the contrary, the older Nott had described his son as a 'capable young man, who's eager to join the group.'

But that, of course, didn't help Theo's case. He wanted to speak with his father. Theo wasn't quite sure how or about what, but if he knew one thing, it was that he needed to talk to the older Nott.

That is, after he had found a way to deal with his pent up frustration.

With that plan in mind, Theo once again glanced in the general direction of his father, only to find an empty chair where he had previously been sitting.

Though, Theo figured, that talk could wait for a while.

~oOo~

Scars.

When he was a child, Theo's mother would always tell him that the first time is the best, so he should appreciate the little wonders of the world when he experienced them for the first time. But then, she died in a mysterious accident, leaving Theo and his father behind to carry on living by this philosophy.

This sentiment died for Theo when he finished his first mission as a Death Eater, much like the woman who had taught it to him. Having seen so many people die, having seen the destruction that he and his peers caused, he couldn't help but think of what his mother had tried to teach him, but as soon as it came to his mind, it was thrown in the metaphorical garbage can.

Something deep inside him cracked on that very day, never to be the same again.

~oOo~

Darkness.

With a wave of his wand, Theo forced the Muggle man in front of him to his knees. The boy's fingers danced around his cherry wand in a monotonous fashion, mirroring his face, which was just as expressionless as his dim eyes. He couldn't be fazed by the pitiful gazes of people on the other end of his wand—the past months had killed whatever kindness, whatever humanity he had left, or so it seemed. The light in his eyes had long since faded; he was barely more than a puppet anymore. All that reminded him of his identity was the unadulterated rage that threatened to come to the surface of his mind, directed mostly at his father for pushing Theo under the bus. However, he always thought the better of it, and his mind would go blank again, numbing his senses, keeping him from breaking down from the terror that he lived through as per his daily routine.

Life wasn't worth much, but whatever force it was that kept Theo from giving up, it was strong enough to keep him going deeper and deeper down in this hole of darkness.

~oOo~

Bittersweet.

A mixture of colourful hexes and curses whizzed right by Theo's ear, sharpening his senses. He caught a glimpse of a familiar-looking black robe—Yaxley, he thought—so he sent a silent hex his way after making sure nobody saw him doing it. What he was doing was high-risk, low-reward, but as long as it worked, nobody would know of his true intentions.

As soon as he saw the fellow Death Eater hit the ground, he made a full turn to face an Order member whose name Theo hadn't cared to learn. As he was about to send a hex his enemy's way, he was struck on the side by a stray spell that sent him falling onto the ground, groaning in pain.

"Who the hell-" he muttered but was interrupted by a deeper but still awfully familiar voice.

"Get up, son!" His father's voice came from his right.

"Father?" Theo asked with a puzzled expression. He hadn't had the time to talk to him since his induction the previous August. Theo wouldn't go home for the Christmas holidays, nor would he write home either. "Did you just curse me?"

"I may have, but believe me: If I didn't, you would be in even more pain." The older man pointed at another person near Theo, who was currently bleeding from several wounds.

"You saved me? But why?" Theo asked, his voice more high-pitched than ever.

"I pride myself in keeping to favours," came the answer, "even if I have to risk myself for it."

Theo sighed. There was no point in cursing his father for what he did anymore. Sometimes, mercy was the best way to go. "I accept the apology. But you know just as well as I do: Notts may forgive, but they never forget."

"I know."

It was only later, when Theo saw his father fall dead by the Killing Curse, that he realized that he really had forgiven him.

~oOo~

Recovery.

"Is that all, Mr Nott?" came the voice of Theo's counsellor as soon as the Nott scion was finished with his story.

His throat was a little hoarse, and his tongue felt dry, like sandpaper, so he merely nodded.

"Well, I'm glad you finally gathered the courage to tell me all of this; I appreciate it."

Theo nodded again.

"Before we end this therapy session, may I ask a question?"

"Yes," Theo managed to croak out.

"Why did you forgive your father? What he did was terrible, wasn't it?"

"It was," Theo mused. "But we're all monsters, after all."